he words being
improvised for the occasion and were not calculated to increase Mr.
Cassidy's respect for his own wisdom if he should hear them. Mr. Cassidy
heard, however, and several fragments so forcibly intruded on his peace
of mind that he determined to put on the last verse himself and to suit
himself.

Suddenly Mr. Travennes poked his head up and glanced at the hut. He was
down again so quickly that there was no chance for a shot at him and
he believed that his enemy was still sojourning in the rear of the
building, which caused him to fear that he was expected to live on
nothing as long as he could and then give himself up. Just to show his
defiance he stretched himself out on his back and sang with all his
might, his sombrero over his face to keep the glare of the sun out of
his eyes.

He was interrupted, however, forgot to finish a verse as he had
intended, and jumped to one side as a stone bounced off his leg. Looking
up, he saw another missile curve into his patch of sky and swiftly bear
down on him. He avoided it by a hair's breadth and wondered what
had happened. Then what Mr. Travennes thought was a balloon, being
unsophisticated in matters pertaining to aerial navigation, swooped down
upon him and smote him on the shoulder and also bounced off.

Mr. Travennes hastily laid music aside and took up elocution as he
dodged another stone and wished that the mesquite-loving crank had put
on a roof. In evading the projectile he let his sombrero appear on a
level with the desert, and the hum of a bullet as it passed through his
head-gear and into the opposite wall made him wish that there had been
constructed a cellar, also.

"Hi-le, hi-lo" intruded upon his ear, as Mr. Cassidy got rid of the
surplus of his heart's joy. Another stone the size of a man's foot
shaved Mr. Travennes' ear and he hugged the side of the hole nearest his
enemy.

"Hibernate, blank yu!" derisively shouted the human catapult as he
released a chunk of sandstone the size of a quail. "Draw in yore laigs
an' buck," was his God-speed to the missile.

"Hey, yu!" indignantly yowled Mr. Travennes from his defective storm
cellar. "Don't yu know any better'n to heave things thataway?"

"Hi-le, hi-lo," sang Mr. Cassidy, as another stone soared aloft in the
direction of the complainant. Then he stood erect and awaited results
with a Colt's in his hand leveled at the rim of the hole. A hat waved
and an excited voice bit off chunks of expostulati